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“Let’s put the socks and underwear back in the dryer, and tomorrow, let’s see if they’re still there and not back in a drawer.”
“We can set a few invisible traps, too,” Mike said.
“I don’t want Eddie Jr. caught in some kind a of trap,” Joan said.
“Not a bear trap kind of trap. This is an old private eye trick: you moisten a hair or a piece of thread and stick it to the door’s edge. If somebody goes in or out, the hair falls away, unnoticed, except by our man. Then we’ll know if somebody has been in the room.”
“I like it,” Joan said.
“It has the advantage of not shooting somebody in the head,” Stone said. “Can you stand another night in the house, Joan?”
“We can have people on duty all night,” Mike said.
“Okay, but not in my bedroom.”
“You’ll have your alarm locket to use, if the room is breached,” Mike said.
“Okay, let’s do it,” Joan said. “What do I have to do?”
“Nothing,” Mike said. “Come home after work, get in bed, watch a movie, or read a book until you’re sleepy. If you feel or hear something, don’t move, just press the locket.”
“Stone, will you sleep in Eddie Sr.’s dressing room?”
“No, we’ll want to leave that for Eddie Jr. But there’s a lock on the dressing-room door, so you can block the access to the bedroom.”
“Good,” Joan said. “Let’s do it.”
FIFTY-ONE
Fred drove Stone and Joan back to his house, and they resumed work, as if nothing had happened. Stone thought it a good time to call Sandy Beech, and he did so.
“Ah,” she said. “I was just thinking about you.”
“Pleasant thoughts, I hope.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Dinner tonight? We might discuss those thoughts.”
“We might, indeed. See you at six.”
—
At ten minutes past six, Stone’s bell rang. He pressed the button and said, “Come in.” Then he walked toward the front door as she entered, looking around. “Oh, this is nicer than my house,” she said.
Stone led her to the study, poured her a drink, then took her on the ten-cent tour. They returned to the study with emptyglasses, and Stone refilled them. “The bedrooms are upstairs. I’ll spare you looking at beds.” They sat down before a small fire in the hearth.
Stone raised his glass. “To second dates. They’re so much more fun than first ones.”
She raised her glass. “And to the absence of old boyfriends.”
“Have you broken it off with Bryce Newcomb?”
“Yes, but he probably hasn’t noticed yet.”
“How did you come to know him?”
“I met him at the bar at P. J. Clarke’s,” she said, laughing. “I thought you’d appreciate that.”
